Truths and Lies and Photographs
by Athazagoraphobiac
Summary: Angry, alone, and frustrated, Elena moves to Mystic Falls following the death of her parents. There, she must rediscover who she is while gaining unwanted assistance from two very different Salvatore brothers. ***Warning*** Smut/Lemons, Strong Language
1. Chapter 1

**Pre-Note:** **Please be aware this story is rated 'M' for a reason. My stories contain strong language, uncomfortable topics, and graphic smut. You've been warned.**

**The Vampire Diaries and all characters belong to their respective owners.**

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><p>A slowly burning cigarette hung loosely between my index and middle finger as I took a deep drag, bathing my lungs in a thickness that often nearly choked me. I wasn't really a smoker, but it helped to keep me calm. My other hand held the handle of my rolling suitcase as I stared up at the 1840s, brick-built Victorian home. The house had white trimming, ridiculously tall blue shutters, and a wrap-around porch – a copycat of all the decrepit old homes in small town America.<p>

Jutting from the left of the home was a round tower, the roof extending up into tight point. My peripheral vision caught the movement of a black curtain inside as it was pulled back then released. _Not creepy at all_, I thought to myself as I sucked in another toxic puff of smoke.

My eyes roamed away from the tower and toward the other windows of the home. Each had a dark curtain hanging within the windows – all drawn together – and the glass frames were all closed shut despite it being a nice day outside. My mom had always preferred opening the windows when the weather allowed. A chill crept over me as I stared at the massive structure and I unconsciously wrapped the hand holding the cigarette around my midsection. From the outside, the house seemed normal enough, but there was an edge radiating from it that I couldn't quite pinpoint. Something was off with it.

"Thoughts?" Jeremy asked, pulling me from my visual inspection of our new home.

I shrugged. "Seems foreboding."

Jeremy's bark of a laugh made me jump slightly. "Seems _what_?"

"Foreboding," I repeated, flicking my cigarette with my thumb to shake the charred ashes. "Please tell me you know the word."

"Ha ha," he rolled his eyes, repositioning his duffle bag that was slung over his shoulder.

"There's just something… menacing about it, I guess," I elaborated. "Something disturbing."

"The only disturbing thing out here is your hair," Jeremy chuckled. "I swear, Elena, did you even brush it today"

I shot daggers toward him and quickly attempted to run my hand through the nest hanging past my shoulders. It had been a rough few days. I really hadn't been too concerned with my appearance. This morning before getting on the airplane in California, I had quickly run a brush through my hair, thrown on a white tank, baggy, dark grey sweat pants, a black leather bomber jacket, and old, worn Converse tennis-shoes. I truly did not care what I looked like.

"I'm just joking with ya'," he smiled before reaching down to take my suitcase and starting up the steps of the front porch.

I followed after him, throwing one quick glance up to the sky as if to ask it, _Why me? _

Jeremy sat the luggage down beside the door then pressed the doorbell. I heard the chime from inside the home and briefly questioned why no one had come out on their own earlier. Clearly someone saw us arrive when they looked out the tower window.

Several minutes passed before Jeremy rammed his finger against the button again. Almost immediately the door swung open and Alaric – a.k.a Uncle Ric – smiled down at us.

"Hey!" he greeted enthusiastically, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. "I was out back doing some yard work. Didn't hear the bell. Come here, give me a hug!" He stepped forward and pulled both Jeremy and I into a small group hug, squeezing our shoulders tightly.

Alaric was not actually our uncle, but our parents' closest – and only – friend. He was given the title of our "god father" the minute we were both born. We hadn't seen him in probably three years, but with the way the economy had turned and how busy our family had become as Jeremy and I got older, it was just difficult to find time for trips or to have visitors come to us.

_Now we'll never get that chance, _I thought morosely as I stepped back from his embrace.

Exactly 14 days ago, both of my parents had been killed in a car accident. Truly not a unique way to die, but tragic nonetheless. There was no foul play involved, just fate throwing a curve ball in a little thing called our life. Jeremy was processing through their passing fairly well – as well as can be expected from a teenager who just lost both parents. He had a better understanding of and a stronger grasp on reality. People live. People die. There's nothing anyone can do to stop the cycle. We just have to accept what's given, pick ourselves up, and try to push forward.

I was neither willing nor ready to accept that way of thinking. I just wanted my parents back. I wanted to be back in my own room with my own things and my own father standing at the door to greet me. This house was not enough for me. Alaric was not enough.

I had done everything possible to convince the local judge that Jeremy and I were old enough to take of ourselves. I was nearly 18 and Jeremy was coming up on 17. We were practically adults. We didn't need to be shipped across the country to Mystic Falls, Virginia to live with Alaric.

Truth was, I didn't fully believe that we didn't need an adult. I just didn't want to leave my house. My memories. The only place that physically tied me to my parents. When I packed my suitcase and walked out the front door, I felt as though I was abandoning them.

Ric opened the door wider and made a grand gesture with his arm. "Welcome to my humble abode," he said with an overly proper tone.

Jeremy lifted his duffle bag and pulled up the handle of my suitcase and stepped inside first. I lifted my foot to step over the threshold when Ric quickly swung in front of me, his hand held up a few inches in front of my chest. My brow furrowed in confusion until I watched his eyes travel down the length of my arm and to the still burning cigarette between my fingers.

"I didn't peg you for a smoker," he commented casually.

I shrugged and flicked what remained out into the yard.

"Is this going to be a phase type thing or do I need to run out for an outdoor ashtray?" he asked with a slightly lifted brow.

_I just lost my parents, I don't need another _one, I wanted to throw into his face, but instead I remained silent and walked past him into the foyer.

Ric dropped the subject there and closed the door behind me. Just as I was turning to ask which way to my room, movement from the staircase caught my attention. A guy, probably not far from my age, came strolling down the steps, his thumbs hooked casually into his front pockets. I couldn't help but notice his smile was brilliant beneath forest green eyes and styled, but not overly so, brown hair.

My eyes flickered to Ric, searching for an explanation as to why this stranger looked as though he was expecting us, when suddenly a conversation had with my Mom nearly two years ago came back to me in a rush.

"_Did your dad tell you what Uncle Ric's been up to?" Mom asked me as I sat beside her on the couch. We each had a basket of laundry in front of us and were separating the clothes into piles based on whom they belonged to._

_I shook my head. "Nuh-uh."_

"_Well, you know, he and Isobel had been trying to have kids, but it just didn't happen. Then the divorce happened and he was left alone in that gigantic house of his so he decided to take in some foster kids."_

"_Foster kids? Like he's adopting?"_

"_Not exactly," she said as she picked up a tank top that belonged to me and threw it in my pile. "He's taking in like older teenagers. You know ones that aren't exactly going to be adopted before they're legally adults. He'll be their guardian, so to speak."_

"_Hm," was my only response. That was nice of Uncle Ric to extend his home like that._

"_Yeah, your dad said he's really enjoying it."_

"_He's already got some kids there?"_

_She nodded. "Two brothers. I don't know exactly what kind of life they come from, but Ric told your dad they're adjusting well. They seem to really like him and he feels the same."_

I blinked away the memory and looked back at the guy. This must be one of the brothers. He was surprisingly… handsome. A grey knit henley hugged snugly around his torso and his dark jeans relaxed low on his hips. His facial features were chiseled with strong angles, but there was a softness lining them. His body was tall and lean with hints of meticulously trained muscles appearing against parts of the henley fabric.

A flutter of self-consciousness hit me as I thought back to Jeremy's hair comment and tried once again inconspicuously running my fingers through the mess. _Probably could've gone without the sweatpants,_ I thought as I glanced down at myself.

"Guys," Ric spoke up, moving to the bottom of the staircase where the guy was stepping off. "This is Stefan."

Stefan walked over to Jeremy with an extended hand. "Jeremy, right?"

Jeremy clasped his hand and gave a firm shake and nod. Stefan then turned to me offering the same hand. "And Elena?" he asked softly, his voice sending a melting sensation through my body. I nodded and took his hand, but instead of shaking, he raised my knuckles to his lips and kissed them gently. My cheeks went up in flames and I averted my eyes. I felt him chuckle slightly as he pulled away.

"How was your trip?" Stefan asked both Jeremy and I.

"It was alright," Jeremy shrugged. "Our plane got delayed because of some mechanical issues, but other than that no complaints."

Stefan nodded slightly and smiled. "Well, I know Ric here has been just giddy waiting for you guys to arrive."

Ric rolled his eyes and shoved Stefan lightly. "Yeah, sure. Very funny. Why don't you do something productive and show them the way to their rooms?" Ric grinned.

Stefan laughed and offered Jeremy assistance in bringing up the luggage. He threw Jeremy's duffle over his shoulder and reached for my suitcase but Jeremy declined and carried it up the stairs himself.

I briefly noticed that no one had mentioned my parents, either to offer condolences or otherwise. Maybe Ric had discussed this with Stefan earlier and suggested they leave it alone. I appreciated that. For a week now all I'd heard was, "I'm so sorry for your loss." People telling me this did nothing for my grief and helped me in no way. It just made me angrier than I already was.

When we reached the second floor, Stefan turned left and began down a long hallway, pointing to doors as we passed.

"This is Ric's room," he motioned to the first door on the right then lowered his voice. "Between us, I think he chose this room so he could hear if anyone's sneaking out. The floorboards squeak something fierce near the stairs and I've learned on more than one occasion he can hear it in his room," he laughed quietly.

"This is a storage closet," he went on as we continued walking. "A guest bathroom, a linen closet, and this," he said as he shoved open the next door on the left, "is your bedroom, Jeremy." He walked in and sat the duffle bag on the bed in the center of the room. "You've got your own bathroom to the right over there, a closet here. A small balcony is out that door there and looks out toward the street."

Jeremy sat my suitcase by the door and followed in after Stefan. "Pretty nice," Jeremy smiled as he looked around the room.

Stefan nodded and headed back toward the door. "Yeah, my room is the next room over if you need anything. I'll let you get set up and show Elena the way to her room." He bent down and picked up my suitcase by the handle before exiting back into the hallway and going in the direction of the staircase again.

I looked back at the rest of the hallway and noticed a door at the very end. I recalled the exterior of the house and noted that must be the entrance to the tower where I'd seen someone look out. "What's that room down there?" I asked Stefan before following him back down the hallway.

He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Oh, that's Damon's room."

"Damon?"

"Yeah, my brother," he answered before turning back around and walking.

I followed after him, briefly glancing back at the door again. "Is he here?"

"I'm sure," he said. "Probably up in his dark room."

"He's a photographer?" I asked as we passed the stairs that first led us up to the second floor and started passing new doors.

"Amongst other things," Stefan replied and I thought I heard a new strain in his tone at the mention of his brother.

We walked down the hallway until we stopped at the door completely opposite Damon's. Stefan pulled open the door and I saw more stairs leading up to the right.

"Um… I'm in the attic?" I questioned as I hesitated at the bottom of the steps.

Stefan chuckled and reached down for my hand. "Something like that. Come on."

My stomach flipped slightly as I looked to his outstretched hand. Slowly, I reached for it and he began leading me up narrow steps.

Back in California, before the whole mess with my parents, Stefan was definitely the type of guy I'd go for. He was strong, attractive, and gentlemanly. When he looked at me, I swooned a little. But now, here in Mystic Falls, I wasn't quite sure if I was the same person. The old me would have never smoked outside on the lawn. The old me would have never traveled in a tank and sweatpants with barely brushed hair. The old me was never sarcastic or rude.

But I wasn't the old me anymore. Their death had changed me from the inside and I wasn't sure how to make my way back to whom I was.

When we crossed over the top step and turned the corner to the left, a room nearly the size of the entire second floor stretched out in front of me. The décor teetered on being modern and antique all at the same time. A small sitting area was directly in front of me with a beige couch, beige love seat, and a glass coffee table. An area rug covered the hardwood floor beneath the sitting area in a soft shade of grey. Beyond that was the bedroom portion of the room. A wooden four-poster bed was pushed against the farthest wall with soft white drapes tied to the posts they hung beside. Two matching in-tables sat on either side of the bed with glowing silver lamps on top. A large dresser with a mirror on top was against the wall to the right and a closet door was beside it. A few paintings hung on the wall in random places and decorative nick-knacks sat on the dresser and coffee table. All of the colors in the room were very pastel and very feminine.

"Ric decorated this?" I asked in disbelief after surveying the area.

Stefan rolled the suitcase near the bed and shook his head. "No. Before he and Isobel… you know," he started with a pointed look, "she renovated the attic. Whenever they would have problems, Ric said she'd come up here to get away for a bit. He thought you'd appreciate the quiet space, especially with four guys down on the second floor. Guess he thought we'd drive a pretty girl like you a little crazy," he said to me with a smile and… a wink? Did he really just wink at me?

The old me might have fawned over that sentiment. I wasn't sure how I felt about it now. A little… repulsed? That may be too strong of a term, but I definitely wasn't feeling it.

Instead of responding, I walked to my suitcase, threw it on top of the bed, and began unzipping it. I was hoping that like Jeremy, Stefan would give me some room to get set up if he saw me working on it.

Instead of leaving, he walked over to the dresser and picked up one of the random nick-knacks, rotating it between his hands. "So, Ric told me about your parents. I'm really sorry…" _Oh no, _I thought, "…for…" _Don't say it. _"…your…" My eyes closed and I breathed in through my nose. "…loss."

My hands paused midair with a pair of folded jeans between my fingers. Apparently my earlier assumption that Ric had told Stefan not to talk about the deaths was incorrect. And what's worse was he said those words I was so sick of hearing. Whatever attraction I felt toward Stefan earlier flew out the window.

Calmly – despite my first reaction protesting fiercely – I sat back down the pants and turned toward Stefan. "You know," I started slowly, "it's really been a long day, Stefan. I kind of just want some time to…" I trailed off, looking at him expectantly.

A beat passed before he understood and his eyes grew wide. "Oh, yeah, sorry, I should've realized…" he sat the decorative item he was toying with back down on the dresser and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I'm gonna' head out then." He started toward the door and I watched, not wanting him to find a reason to stop. "Hey, just like with Jeremy, if you need anything, I'm downstairs. Just let me know."

I nodded but otherwise remained silent.

He looked back at me once more before turning the handle and descending the stairs.

My muscles were taught until I heard the door on the second level open and close. When I was sure I finally had some space, I exhaled deeply, turned and sat on the bed.

I knew Stefan was just being polite, but the last thing I needed right now was more sympathy. All it did was serve to remind me of what I had lost.

I missed them. My parents. So, so much. I still didn't understand why they had been taken. It wasn't their time. It wasn't right for-

Quickly, I grabbed my iPod tucked away in my suitcase, hopped off the bed and walked over to an MP3 docking station that sat on the in-table. I hit shuffle and put the iPod in place, hoping that the music would drown out whatever train of thoughts I was about to travel.

Grabbing a few clothes from the stack, I walked over to the closet and threw the door open, relieved to find hangers already in place. I sat the clothes on the dresser and began picking through them to hang up. The first article of clothing was my dad's old plaid button-up. I had stolen it from his box of things before leaving the old house. I stared down at it and a wave of sorrow hit me. At exactly that same moment, the music finally filled the room from the speakers and my body froze.

Manchester Orchestra's "I Can Feel a Hot One" wove its way around my body and into my mind. My hands began to tremble and my eyes became fixated on my dad's shirt. I could still smell his spicy scent rising from the fabric and my face heated with oncoming tears.

Stepping into the closet, I turned and let my back slide down against the wall, my knees bent up to my chest, the shirt clutched tightly between my hands.

With a shuddering exhale and comfort from the fact I was finally alone, I allowed myself a moment to break. Bringing the shirt against my chest, I began to sob, hot tears rolling heavily down my cheeks.

I just didn't understand. Out of all the people in the world, _both_ of my parents had to be taken from me. Why? They were my world. They meant everything to me. I would never be happy again, not with them gone. I needed them here with me. With Jeremy. It's where they belonged. Why weren't they here for us anymore? How could they leave us?

My body doubled over as all of the frustration and anger I had pent up barreled out on the tears. My chest heaved with shallow exhales and my eyes clenched tightly, almost as though I could block out the pain with darkness.

Suddenly, the music stopped playing, a deafening silence filling the room, and I sat up straight, wiping at my blurry eyes with the back of my hands and forcing my breaths to quiet.

My feet pressed against the floor and I scrambled to get up when a guy I didn't recognize stepped in front of the closet door.

"Who the fuck are you?" I gasped, cowering back into a corner of the closet.

His eyes were cautious and slightly amused as he looked down at me. "Okay, one, we frown upon vulgarity around here. Two, I'm Damon. I came to introduce myself when I heard… you know," he trailed off with a slight gesture toward my disheveled form.

Damon. The other brother. My eyes surveyed him quickly. He was taller than Stefan by a few inches, and slightly more lean. He wore black head to toe from his v-neck t-shirt to his boots and his nonchalantly tousled hair was nearly as dark. A few stray locks fell into his face, a stark contrast to the nearly colorless crystal eyes that stared back at me. His bone structure was all angles and hard edges – nothing soft like Stefans. I immediately felt something dangerous radiating from him, something sinister and equally exciting.

I folded my arms across my chest and stayed where I was, doing my best to hide the sniffling my nose was trying to do. "Oh, yeah. Well…" I stopped there and looked down, not quite knowing how to explain my reasoning for sitting in the closet crying.

His arms mimicked mine and I watched as the muscles of his biceps flexed against the sleeves of the t-shirt. Apparently he worked out as often as Stefan seemed to. His lips pressed into a tight line for a moment before he spoke again, his eyes taking on a slightly sympathetic edge. "You know Ric told me about your parents."

My fists clenched onto my dad's shirt as I realized what words were coming next.

"Please don't say-" "That sucks."

Both Damon and I began speaking at the same time and as the words left his mouth, I stopped, my mouth hanging open slightly.

"Wait, what?" I asked, not quite sure I heard what he had said.

"That sucks," he repeated, watching me intently.

I closed my mouth, the muscles in my jaw tightening.

_That sucks_? Who says _that sucks_ to someone that just lost their parents. I didn't know how to respond. I was not expecting any sort of phrase as simple as _that sucks_.

But the truth was, I was relieved to hear those words instead. When you really got down to it, they were the only real acceptable words. The situation did suck. Entirely. Damon was just stating the truth.

Finally I brought my attention back to him and nodded once. "Yeah. It does," I agreed quietly.

Without saying more, he turned and walked away from the closet. Slowly, I stepped out and saw him sitting down beside my suitcase on the bed. A playful glint lit up his eyes as he reached into the bag. "So, please tell me you sleep in these," he smirked as he lifted a pair of black lace boy shorts.

Immediately, I felt a blush rise from my chest to my cheeks and I rushed over, snatching the garment away from him. "That's absolutely none of your business," I responded snidely as I threw them back into the bag and closed the lid.

"Someone's feisty," he teased with a quirked brow.

I rolled my eyes and ran a hand over my face and into my hair. "So, you were just coming to introduce yourself?"

"I was," he replied.

"Well, then you won't mind if I ask for a little alone time. I need to get unpacked and stuff."

"'And stuff' meaning crying in a closet?" he asked bluntly.

I opened my mouth to respond but closed it quickly, shocked and irritated by his brashness.

"Thought so," he said after a minute before standing to his feet. He latched his thumbs into his back pockets and strolled toward the door. "When you're done moping, come and find me. I'll give you a tour of your new town," he called over his shoulder, swinging open then door and heading down.

I stood motionless, staring at the now closed door. Agitation roared inside me as I replayed the last five minutes of Damon being in my room. First, he barged in here with no regard to what I may be doing. Second, he invaded my personal space by digging through my luggage. And third, he said I was _moping_. Moping? I was crying about the death of my parents and to him, that was moping? Who the hell was this guy? Who the hell did he think he was?

I turned slowly and sat down on the bed, my head reeling from my encounter with him. He was entirely different from his brother, but I couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not.

I flopped down on my back and lolled my head over to the side. Today had truly been a draining day. Blinking my eyes, I focused over on the now silent MP3 player. Gasping, I shot up and felt my jaw drop.

The iPod was gone.

…

Stomping down the steps I tried keeping my anger in check. Maybe it had been an accident. Maybe he hadn't taken the device at all. Maybe he sat it down somewhere and I'd just overlooked it during one of my four scans of the room.

Crossing the length of the hallway, I came up to the door Stefan had pointed out earlier and pounded my palm against it.

Almost immediately the door opened and Damon propped his hip on one side of the frame.

"Yes?" he smirked down at me and I had a feeling he already knew why I was there.

I held out my hand. "iPod."

His brow furrowed in mock confusion. "iPod? What is this you speak of?"

I rolled my eyes. "Seriously, Damon. Don't be an ass."

"Again, vulgarity," he chided in a smooth drawl.

"Damon," I snapped, feeling my annoyance growing. "Don't make me search you because I will."

Placing both of his palms on either side of the doorframe, he leaned out over me slightly with a wicked smirk. "Can I get that guarantee in writing?"

I scoffed and shook my head. "You're disgusting."

"And you're adorable. Are you always this angry?"

I sighed. "Just, please, give me the iPod back."

He chuckled and turned away. "Come on, tiger." He walked away from the door and I hesitated before following after him into the room.

As I stepped in, it was obvious his room was indeed inside the tower. The walls were completely curved with a few windows randomly spaced. A modern round mattress on top of a black frame was against the curve of the wall and several shelves hung above it. There was an antique chest at the foot of the bed and several shoes were lined up beside it. A dresser sat opposite the bed, but its surface was clear. A spiral staircase was immediately to the right of the door I came in and it led up to a painted black door.

For a guy, his room was surprisingly clean. No dirty clothes laid on the floor and none were tossed across furniture. There were no naughty posters hanging on the walls or typical guy things, just rows of collegiate-style books sitting on the shelves. Damon's room was pretty nondescript, giving no suggestions as to what type of guy may live there or if anyone lived there at all.

Damon walked over to his mattress and picked up the iPod that was sitting on the sheets.

I folded my arms and stared at him with incredulity. "So, you did take my iPod. What the hell? Why would you do that, you don't even know me."

He shrugged and walked it back across the room. "You can tell a lot about a person from the music they listen to."

"Yeah? And what did my music tell you?"

"Well, considering I shuffled between all of five songs before you stomped down here like a mad woman, I saw you listen to a lot indie rock. Which means you, Elena, are a sappy, hopeless sucker for emotions, intellect, and guys that don't bathe."

I grabbed the iPod back probably a little too forcefully and slid it into my back pocket. "So, you listen to five songs and suddenly you're an expert on me?"

His smirk lingered beneath the surface. I could tell he was amused by my irritation. "No, but I wouldn't mind becoming an expert…_on_ you…" he replied in a low tone, a darkness haunting his eyes.

I bit the inside of my cheek and commanded my blush to bow down. No need to boost his cocky attitude. Instead of responding I spun around and headed for the door. As I reached for the handle, I heard a click and whir and I quickly spun around to find Damon lowering a manual camera from his eye.

"Did you just take a picture of me?" I gasped, too ashamed to think of how I must look at this point.

He leaned against the dresser, his eyes fixed with mine. "In the twenty minutes that I've known you, Elena, I've already reached the conclusion that you're going to look better _coming…" _a pause and impish wink, "…than going. I just don't want to forget what the other side looked like."

"In the twenty minutes that I've known you, Damon," I began with a scowl, "I've reached the conclusion that you're an arrogant prick."

"And. You. _Love_. It," he responded, punctuating each word.

I let out an exasperated half cry, half sigh and threw open the door, making certain to slam it behind me.

I could hear him chuckling on the other side and the sound infuriated me more. I made my way back up to my room and leaned against the door as it closed.

Damon was such an egotistical jerk. The old me would have never, _never_ found someone like him attractive.

I closed my eyes, tilted my head back against the door, and tried to ignore the question rolling around in my mind:

Why was my heart beating so hard?

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hey guys. Okay, first, let me stress to all of you that I'm am not finished with "Addictions." I've simply hit that point that most fanfic writers come to where inspiration is sparse and I'm struggling to get out the next chapter. Part of the reason I've been so distracted is because I've had this plot bunny bouncing around in my mind for months now, so I thought that maybe if I go ahead and get it out, then "Addictions" will start rolling again.

No, this chapter didn't have most of the things the pre-note warned about, but those of you that know my writing know that it's coming. ;)

For images that correspond to my chapters (such as the house and characters), follow me on Tumblr: aphobiac(DOT)tumblr(DOT)com

See you guys next chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

The soles of my feet grazed the dewy grass as the wooden backyard swing rocked me gently. The sun was barely rising in the horizon and crickets still sang their chirp-songs. I took a drag of my cigarette, letting it sit heavily in my chest for a minute before releasing it.

As the dampness of the lawn sent a chill through me, I pulled my legs up to my chest and wrapped my free arm around them, the seat still swinging beneath me.

I hadn't slept at all last night. I couldn't stop thinking about my parents and Jeremy and Stefan and – although I hated to admit it – Damon. I couldn't stop thinking about how I'd rather be back at home, in my own bed. The bed at Ric's was nice and all, it just wasn't mine.

After tossing restlessly for many hours, around 1:00 PM, I finally threw on an old enjoi panda hoodie over my sleep tank and padded outside in cheer shorts and bare feet, making sure to pocket my pack of cigarettes and iPod.

Ric's backyard was beautiful – from what I could see in the dim moonlight. Just outside the doors was a marbled patio area including a seating area and fire pit. To the left was an underground swimming pool complete with diving board and a small waterfall pouring into it. Farther out in the yard was a wooden swing, positioned to look out at the expanse of hills. To the right, a line of trees marked the entrance to a forest, pitch black beneath the canopies.

I quickly chose the wooden swing, wanting to be farther away from the house than the patio, but not so far away that I couldn't run back to the doors should something in the night spook me.

My cigarette neared the filter and I took one more inhale before tossing it out into the yard to join the last four I had smoked. I made a mental note to come back tomorrow with a trash bag and pick them up, lest I anger Ric. I pulled out a new one from the pack, blocked the wind, and lit it. As I brought it to my lips and sucked, a dull ache throbbed in my chest. I really couldn't handle six cigarettes. I really couldn't handle one. But I didn't mind the ache as much as I should. Actually, I kind of reveled in the pain.

I rolled my eyes at the twisted thought. What the hell had I become?

I pulled out my iPod and unraveled the earbuds as the wind began blowing, causing an eerie whistling between the trees of the forest. Popping them in my ears, I scrolled the dial until I landed on the band Bon Iver. Turning to the song "Wash", I hit play, closed my eyes, and leaned my forehead down to the tops of my knees, allowing the song to seep into my veins and momentarily bring me an escape.

Was this going to be my life now? I was just going to… what had Damon called it? Moping? I was just going to _mope_ around, finding no purpose to life anymore.

I kind of liked the sound of that. It seemed easier.

My mind pulled up the image of Damon stepping into the doorway last night as I had been crying. I had been too preoccupied at the time to really assess him, but now that I thought of him, I couldn't push his eyes from my mind. They were so interesting. You could just tell they held all kinds of secrets. Not only that, they were seductive. Even when I was angry with him, I could feel his eyes pulling me in, drowning me, claiming me.

I, also, kind of liked the sound of that.

Abruptly the swing bounced and rattled from the force of new weight. As my eyes flew open, I half yelped and shot up, yanking the earbuds from my ears. Spinning toward the swing, I nearly cried from relief.

"Shit, Stefan," I gasped. "You scared me."

His palms were held up slightly. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to scare you. I said 'Hey' when I walked up. Didn't realize you were listening to music."

My hand rested on my chest as I tried calming my heartbeat. "No worries," I said between breaths, feeling slightly bad for snapping at him so quickly. "I just wasn't paying attention."

Stefan bent over and I watched as he picked something up from the ground. "I think you dropped this," he informed me, holding out my still lit cigarette.

My lips pressed into a tight line and I nodded once before taking it back. I took a few more deep breaths to fully calm my heart, then I sat back on the swing and folded my legs indian style while Stefan propelled the swing back slightly so we'd rock.

"So, what are you doing out here?" I asked, scanning the cigarette for any dirt before putting my lips on it again.

"I go running every morning at 6. I was in the kitchen getting a bottled water when I saw you out here."

"It's 6 already?" It hadn't felt like I'd been out here that long.

He nodded. "What are _you_ doing out here?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I just needed some fresh air."

He nodded again, this time more to himself as he looked out at the lawn. Several minutes passed before he spoke again. "So, hey, I wanted to apologize for last night."

"What about last night?" I asked, taking another drag from my cigarette and blowing the opposite way so smoke wouldn't surround him.

"I was talking to Jeremy after I left your room and he told me about you having a real problem with people saying 'Sorry for your loss.' I had no idea and I'm sorry."

I looked down at the ground. Jeremy had heard my rant on the sentiment multiple times. He out of anyone would know _exactly_ how I felt about it.

"I just said it because, well, because I honestly had no idea what else to say," he told me openly. "I tried to think of what I would've wanted people to say to me if I'd lost my parents like that, but I'm not sure I'd be able to empathize even in my imagination. I never knew my parents. They gave Damon and I up when I was born and he was about a year old. So, because of that, I think I have a sort of… disconnect, I guess, when it comes to the relationship between a child and their parents. I can't say I understand what you and Jeremy may be going through because I just don't. And I'm sorry for not understanding…for not saying something better… I guess, I just…" He ran his hand over his face and into his hair and sighed. "I feel like this is coming out all wrong."

A pang of guilt shot through me as I watched Stefan struggle to redeem himself. I hadn't even considered the fact that he, too, had no parents. I shouldn't have automatically written him off because he said four small words to me. The truth was, if the situation was reversed, I'm not sure I'd know what to say to someone else going through this.

I reached out and pushed his shoulder gently, causing him to sway. "Hey, don't worry about it, Stefan. All's forgiven." He looked at me, doubtfulness in his eyes and I laughed. "I'm serious. I was just being cranky yesterday. I was overwhelmed with the trip and the move. It's a lot to take in."

I watched his shoulder drop a bit as he exhaled in what sounded like relief. "Okay. Good." He looked back down at the ground and I did the same.

I shifted a bit in my seat as an awkward silence settled over us, fiddling with the cigarette between my fingers. "So," I started slowly, my mind racing for something to talk about before we landed in the silence-so-quiet-no-one-wants-to-break-the-silence silence, "you and Damon have been here for about two years?"

He nodded, giving the ground another firm push to send us back. "Yeah, give or take."

"How old were you when you got here?"

"I was 16, Damon was 17."

"So, you're 18 now and Damon's 19?"

He nodded again.

Immediately my mind wandered to the dark haired boy upstairs in the round tower. 19. About a year and a half older than me, which meant he was wiser than me in some ways. With how he spoke to me I could only guess what _ways_ those were. I'd never had a guy come on to me so blatantly. It was infuriating…and intriguing. I'd ever only been with one guy and that was my ex-boyfriend Matt when I was 15. The experience was awkward and uncomfortable… every single time. I'm sure Damon would be able to teach me all sort of new things…

I shook my head slightly at the thoughts, realizing where they were heading, and tried to focus back on Stefan. "You're both technically adults. Why are you guys still with Ric?"

"Well, I just graduated in May, so I'm still trying to figure out what my next move is. Damon's going to school at MFU and Ric offered to let him continue living here to cut down on costs."

_He's in college. What's he study?_

Each answer Stefan gave me about Damon, I found a new question popping up. A yearning began to form in my gut to learn more and more about the brazen brother. I glanced at Stefan and wondered how much information I could get out of him without being conspicuous.

I decided I would have to ask the questions in a round-about way to get my answers.

"Do you want to study what Damon studies?"

Stefan scoffed. "Photography? No way."

Photography. Makes sense. The darkroom, the camera. I should've guessed. "You don't like Damon's photography?"

"We really don't get to see much of his photography. He's real private that way. We only really get to see what he allows to be put into their art shows at the university."

"From the stuff you've seen, is he any good?"

Stefan stared down at the ground for a moment in thought before answering. "Yeah, I guess so. A lot of it was pretty deep. The kind of stuff you'd expect to see from an 'abandoned, brooding artist.' That's what the _University Journal_ called him in an article."

My brow furrowed slightly. Damon didn't seem all that brooding to me. I mean, I'd only seen him twice – once in my room and the second in his – but he wasn't what I'd call 'brooding'. Pompous, maybe, but not brooding.

"So, if you don't get to see his work really, are you two not close?"

Stefan barked out a clipped laugh. "Definitely _not_ close."

"Why not?"

Stefan turned and looked at me, making eye contact in full force. "Because Damon doesn't understand boundaries. He tends to destroy anything that's good and pure." His stare grew heavy on me and I sensed his words held more of a warning than one would first assume.

I quickly averted my gaze to my dying cigarette and acted as though it needed ashing.

The atmosphere grew uncomfortable for several beats before Stefan spoke up again. "Anyway, I guess I'm gonna' head out," he finally said, standing up from the swing. "Want to join me?" he smiled.

I shook my head and returned the smile. "Maybe another day."

"Well, if you ever want to keep up with me, you might want to give up those things," he nodded toward the cigarette.

I laughed. "Yeah, you're probably right. We'll see."

Before leaving, Stefan walked to the back of the swing and gave it one firm push to send me rocking again. I grinned back at him as a 'thank you' and he simply nodded.

I watched as he turned and started out in a slow jog toward the line of trees, eventually disappearing in the darkness.

Stefan was actually a really nice guy. I could see he and I becoming friends if I'd stop being an idiot and give him a chance. Back home, he'd be the exact kind of guy I'd love to hang out with. Maybe it would be good for me to get back to the basics, get back to what I was familiar with.

But something about the unknown interested me. The unknown, of course, being Damon. Stefan had said he'd been called 'abandoned', 'brooding'. What made people see that? Maybe I wasn't really paying attention when I met him. Now that I'd heard him described in those words, I felt a stronger compulsion to know him.

I was always a sucker for the walking wounded.

I picked back up the iPod and stuck the earbuds in their place. I closed my eyes and was met with his face again. I lingered on the mental image while turning up the volume, Stefan's warning ringing in my ears.

…

"Are you a coffee or juice kind of girl?" Ric asked as he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets.

"Juice," I responded, lightly pushing my eggs around on my plate in an effort to appear as thought I was eating.

"Jeremy?"

"Coffee," he answered around a mouthful of bacon.

"Aren't you a little young to already be drinking coffee?" Ric laughed as he sat my glass of orange juice in front of me.

Jeremy shook his head. "Dad started letting me drink it when I was 10. Never looked back."

"Well, okay then," Ric shrugged and went to get a coffee mug. "How'd you guys sleep last night?"

"Great," Jeremy responded first.

"Fine," I lied. I had come back in the house about an hour after Stefan had left. No one was up yet so I went upstairs and got dressed for the day in a pair of blue jean shorts, a plain grey shirt, and my converse. My straight hair hung loosely around my shoulders, but at least today it was brushed well. I applied a bit of foundation under my eyes to conceal the dark circles from lack of sleep and brushed my cheeks with light blush to try to make me look slightly less ghoulish.

Ric brought Jeremy his coffee and then sat across the table from me, grabbing a shaker full of pepper for his food. "I spoke to the moving company this morning. They said the rest of your stuff should get here by tomorrow."

"You know they're bringing like my bed and dresser and stuff," Jeremy said after washing down his food with an entirely too large gulp of hot coffee. "You can sell that furniture if you want. I like the stuff in this new room. Maybe that'll help pay the bills or something."

As Jeremy spoke about getting rid of his furniture, panic swelled inside of me and I dropped my fork. "I'm_ not_ selling my things," I snapped. The idea of getting rid of the furniture my parents had bought crushed me. Those things were _mine_. They belonged to _my_ family. There was no way in hell I was letting someone sell them.

Both guys stared at me, shock registering slightly in their eyes.

"Um… Elena, I was only talking about _my _stuff," Jeremy started slowly, approaching with caution. "No one's making you get rid of yours."

I glared at him, his reasoning lost in my eyes. "You shouldn't want to get rid of your things either, Jeremy," I shot back harshly, pushing back from the table. "Why don't you just throw away our family pictures while you're at it," I nearly yelled at him. Before he had time to respond, I was sprinting toward the front door, a surprising amount of anger radiating within me and having me want nothing more than to get away.

As I threw it open, I ran into Damon who was balancing a box of what looked like chemicals in his arms. His eyes snapped up to mine in confusion.

Immediately I saw an out. "Still want to show me the town?" I asked quickly, glancing over my shoulder.

He looked past me to where Jeremy and Ric were approaching. "Uh, sure, I guess," he responded, shifting the box. "Let me get these inside."

"I'll meet you at your car," I said and started past him, not wanting to confront Jeremy and Ric about what just happened.

I wasn't entirely sure that the black muscle car at the end of the drive was his, but as I approached, I placed my hand on the hood and could still feel heat radiating from the engine. I assumed Damon had just come from it so I went ahead and hopped in the passenger seat, my knees bouncing rapidly as my over-built energy made me jittery.

Damon stepped out on the front porch and I watched as Ric called him back to the door. As they spoke, Ric glanced toward me with sympathetic eyes. Damon nodded in response to whatever he said then headed for the car.

As soon as the driver side door closed, I turned on him. "What did Ric say?"

He started the ignition and backed out the drive. "Basically that you're having an emotional breakdown and I should be prepared for sobbing. Little does he know that we've played through that episode, haven't we," he smirked and glanced over at me, reminding me of the closet fiasco.

I crossed my arms and snapped my head forward. I didn't find that incident or this one amusing at all. My frustration and rage still felt as though it was swirling across my skin. How could Jeremy be so stupid? How could he just let go of stuff just like that? It didn't make any sense to me. That stuff came from our family home. Those possessions were all we had left of Mom and Dad.

"What are you thinking?" Damon suddenly asked, pulling me from my internal rant.

"Nothing," I answered.

"Liar," he shot back just as quickly.

My eyes shot daggers at him. "What?"

"Elena," he chided, looking toward me again. "You honestly expect me to believe that you're sitting in that seat thinking '_nothing'_?

"I expect you to know how to mind your own business," I replied under my breath, turning to look out the window.

He chuckled and the sound infuriated me more. This was a stupid idea.

After driving a while in silence, the car veered off down a narrow dirt road with trees on each side and my brow furrowed. "I thought you were showing me the town?"

"In time," he assured. "But I want to show you someplace else first."

It didn't take much longer before the road began to disappear between patches of overgrown grass and met with a thick wall of trees. We both climbed out of the car and I looked around, even more confused than before. "There's nothing here," I said aloud, stating the obvious.

"Follow me." He walked toward the line of trees and into the forest.

"Hey, I'm not really into hiking," I called after him. I was kind of clumsy when it came to non-flat ground and I wasn't really wearing the clothes for tromping through the woods. I could already feel the sting of thorns on my bare legs.

"Come on!" he shouted back and I bit down on my lower lip. I waited a few more seconds to see if he'd come back out and when he didn't, I realized it was either follow him or be left here in the middle of nowhere by myself.

Quickly, I started after him.

Damon was standing just within the trees and when he was sure I was following, he began walking.

"Where are we going again?"

"Jesus, Elena, why don't you just asked 'Are we there yet' until we're there."

I rolled my eyes at his rudeness. "Fine, then."

Was walked for some time before the trees finally faded away. In front of me was a tall hill and I inwardly groaned at the thought of climbing it. Before I could ask if we had to, Damon was already on his way up.

The anger I had felt toward Jeremy earlier was now directed entirely at Damon as I climbed the steep slope. My calves burned from the workout of traversing the forest and now my breathing was unnaturally heavy. Maybe Stefan was right and I should give up the cigarettes.

Finally, the ground began to level out and I looked up to find Damon standing a little ways away, balancing on a rusting rail of railroad tracks. The tracks were broken on each end, indicating it was no longer used.

Taking gasping breaths, I walked up beside him and let my eyes wander to where his were looking.

If I hadn't already had a difficult time breathing, the sight before me would have taken my breath away.

On the other side of the hill, a large lake with dark water was nestled comfortably between the hills. On one side of the lake the water met the grass and on the other it met a towering stone wall. Water trickled down the wall and stirred the nearly still lake. Colorful flowers and a few trees edged the water and the grass swayed in the breeze coming from the hilltops.

"Wow," I exhaled the word.

"Yeah," Damon answered simply and sat down on the rail he stood on.

I sat beside him and looked out at the scene. "How'd you find this place?"

"When I first moved here, I was out taking pictures. Came across it. I come here to think now."

I nodded, understanding how the serene atmosphere of this place could clear one's mind. I already felt much more calm.

We sat quietly for a while before Damon started to speak again. "So, seriously. What were you thinking about in the car?"

I glanced over at him, but he was still staring down at the lake. I waited a few beats, weighing whether to tell him the truth or not. I finally settled on the truth. "I was thinking about how angry I was with Jeremy."

"Why are you angry with him?"

"He wants to sell his furniture from my parents house. He likes the stuff in Ric's house better."

"And that's wrong because…?"

"Because our parents got us that stuff. It belongs in our family," I snapped.

He looked to me and I waited for a sign of judgment to reach his eyes, but it never did. "I guess I get that," he nodded and looked back out.

His response startled me and I looked down at the ground. "Yeah. It just upset me, I guess," I replied slowly. As I stared at the grass beneath my feet, I noticed the lace to my shoe was coming undone so I bent down to retie it.

Before I could even grab the loose lace, Damon shouted, "Elena, look!" and I sat up, afraid something was wrong.

Immediately the click of small square camera went off and my brow pulled together. "What the hell?"

He shrugged, laughed, and sat the camera next to him on the grass.

"Stop taking pictures of me," I demanded and punched him in the shoulder.

The act only brought another laugh out of him and made me angrier.

"Hey, you wanna' go swimming?"

My mind was whirling. I was going from angry to confused to calm to angry to confused all within one morning and I didn't understand how to handle it. "What?"

He pointed at the lake. "Swim-ming," he sounded out with a playful smirk. I punched him again. "Ow!" he laughed and rubbed his arm. "_You_ stop doing _that_." He stood up and started walking down the hill, his body turned at an angle to keep his balance. "You coming?" he asked without looking back.

A blew a breath out my nose and shook my head at him. How could one person be so exasperating?

When we reached the bottom of the hill, I looked over at him. He was wearing dark jeans and a black v-neck shirt. "How do you propose swimming, Damon? We don't have any swimsuits."

"Take your clothes off," he responded and I tilted my head slightly, giving him the are-you-serious look. He held my gaze with eyes that answered he was entirely serious.

Sighing, I turned my back to him. At least I was wearing a tanktop under my t-shirt. I pulled the shirt over my head and dropped it to the ground. I kicked off my tennis shoes and reached for my shorts before stilling. Suddenly, this seemed like a horrible idea. I shook my head. "I changed my mind, Damon," I called over my shoulder and bent to reach my shirt.

Abruptly, strong arms wrapped around my waist and tossed me out into the lake.

Gasping, I shot back up from the water and looked at Damon. "Seriously?" I shouted, my hands held out to my sides. "You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

He stood at the waters edge, that maddening smirk on his lips. "You think about things entirely too much, Elena."

A grit my teeth together, too angry to laugh along with him. "There's boundaries, Damon," I snapped. "Oh, but I forgot, you don't _understand_ boundaries."

"And what do you mean by that?" he asked.

"Stefan warned me about you, you know."

"Oh, yeah?" he smiled. "And what did he say?"

"That I needed to stay away from you."

"Why?"

"He said you destroy things that are good and pure."

I saw Damon's jaw muscles tense as he stared at me, the playfulness fading from his eyes. I suddenly felt as though maybe I shouldn't have said that and I wanted to take it all back. Damon broke eye contact long enough to hold onto the base of a tree and hop down into the water, still completely dressed.

Instantly, my heart began to race and my brow furrowed. Damon stalked toward me through the water and I instinctively backed away. I could feel the lake getting deeper behind me so I was forced to stop moving and let him approach.

He stopped nearly a foot away, staring down at me with blazing eyes. "Do you believe him?" he asked.

My mouth fell open slightly as I looked up at him. "I have no idea, Damon. I don't even know you! Or him for that matter!"

"What's your gut say?"

"What?"

"What do you believe, Elena?" he repeated again, stressing the words.

His stare was entirely too intense and I wanted to dive under the water to hide from it. I had no idea what had happened between him and his brother, but it was obvious that whatever it was still burned deep for both of them. I didn't want to get involved.

"I don't know what I believe," I finally responded. "I guess I think you could if you wanted to." I had no idea where the answer came from, but it felt honest. Damon seemed like the type of guy that could go either way.

He looked down, a flash of pain crossing his eyes. I instantly regretted the honesty. I needed to diffuse the situation and quickly. I was already too uncomfortable.

Not really knowing what else to do or what else to say, I swung my arm and splashed a fistful of water into his face.

His eyes returned to mine, a disbelieving look in them. When he didn't respond, I splashed him again and a small smirk turned the corners of his lips.

…

I don't know how long we stayed in the water, but I was sure that I felt more relaxed than I had in a long time when the hills eventually began to cast half a shadow across the lake. A peacefulness that had long evaded me was settling around me and I wasn't excited about leaving it there in the water, but the air was growing cold and we knew it would be dark soon.

Damon climbed out first, shaking his head like a dog to expel water from the dark strands of hair. I watched as he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it gracefully over his head. He walked over to where the sun still shone and hung the shirt on the branch of a tree. He stretched his arms over his held and I found myself captivated by the movement.

His body was just as I had pictured it. Strong shoulders, muscled arms. As he turned back to me and I was shown his chiseled chest and abs, I had to look away to conceal the blush creeping over my skin.

"Getting out?" he called out to me.

I nodded and waited for the redness to fade away before swimming to the edge and accepting his hand to get out. His long fingers were warm against my cold skin and a spark sizzled where he touched me. Quickly, I released his grasp and started toward my shirt on the ground, knowing a new blush would appear if I stayed too long.

I kept my back to him and tugged my wet tanktop off, replacing it with the t-shirt. I turned around to find him staring me unabashedly, a darkness clouding his eyes.

Despite my best efforts, the blush returned anyway.

…

When we returned to the house, Ric gave us a once over and shook his head, obviously deciding it was best not to ask. As I made my way up to my room, Jeremy stopped me in the hallway and apologized.

He told me that he hadn't realized it was a big deal to me for him to keep the stuff. I quietly accepted his apology, not really wanting to get into an argument and continued up to my room.

I grabbed fresh clothes and went back to the second floor bathroom. I made quick work of getting out of my wet, uncomfortable clothes and started a hot bath.

As I slid down into the water, whatever tension I had picked back up from coming back to the house melted away.

I found that the only thing my mind wanted to think about was Damon and unlike earlier at the swing, I allowed myself to.

My mind recalled the image of him climbing out of the lake and him removing his shirt. Water had glistened off his skin like crystals and part of me wished I could've licked them off.

The way his body moved was sensuous. His muscles excited me as his attitude enraged me. I didn't know how to handle him.

Unconsciously, my fingers slid down my skin and under the water until they found the sensitive area between my legs. My mind began conjuring up images that absolutely did not happen, but that I wouldn't mind experiencing.

Damon turned to help me out of the water and then pushed my back against a tree trunk. His lips found their place against my neck and he sucked the skin gently. I pictured his sinfully long fingers brush against my hip and dip beneath my shorts.

Automatically I moaned and massaged the throbbing nub under my fingertips.

I could see his grey-blue eyes staring down at me, watching me react to his manipulation.

"Damon," I gasped quietly, my head lolled back against the tub.

His face moved down my body until his lips were surrounding my nipples, his tongue circling the sensitive area.

My fingers quickened their pace, sparking a buildup in my abdomen.

I imagined his body trapping me against the tree, his fingers sliding effortlessly between my wet folds. "_You like that?"_ mind-Damon asked me darkly.

"Ugh, _Damon,_" I moaned again, my release quickly approaching.

His mouth returned to my neck and I could hear him groan against me. His fingers tweaked my clit several more times before my mouth fell open and my orgasm slammed into me.

I stilled my fingers between my legs as my body tensed and the sensation lapped over me, my clit twitching wildly from the stimulation.

When the orgasm finally faded away, I fell slack into the water, my breathing heavy and my mind racing.

Never in my life had I gotten off to a specific person before. I used to always image faceless guys with amazing bodies doing me the way Matt never could. I guess the guy finally had a face.

I finished washing and dressed in the fresh clothes, wrapping a towel around my wet hair before leaving the bathroom.

As the door opened, my heart stopped in my chest.

Leaning against the wall, directly across from me, was Damon. His arms were folded across his chest and that damn smirk lingered on his lips.

He knew.

Shame washed over me and I could feel my skin go up in flames.

Damon remained quiet as he pushed back from the wall, giving me a quick once over before turning around and walking to his room.

I stood frozen in the doorway, mortified and humiliated.

And this was only my second day there.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** To see the photo Damon took of Elena, go to my tumblr: aphobiac(dot)tumblr(dot)com

See you guys next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

For the second way-too-early morning, I found myself on the swing, my cigarette between my lips, my headphones pumping music into my ears. My nerves were wound so tightly I felt as though any small thing would cause me to have a very unpretty breakdown.

My music was so loud it nearly hurt, but I was attempting to drown out the why's? and what's bouncing around in my mind.

_Why had Damon chosen that exact moment to come down the hallway?_

_Why had I been stupid enough to let myself lose control?_

_Why hadn't I at least been quiet?_

_What exactly did he hear?_

_What would he say to me?_

_What would he _think_ of me?_

I groaned and turned the volume up another notch. I was an idiot. An embarrassed idiot. I could feel my cheeks heating from just thinking about it all again.

I would never be able to speak to him again.

Honestly, that was fine by me. I had too many other things going on in my life to throw Damon into the mess. Maybe we could carefully avoid each other until this flaming disaster fizzled out.

Without warning, my earbuds were yanked from my ears and a warm breath flowed past my ear. "_Good_morning, darling."

I squeezed my eyes tight. Or maybe he would do everything in his power to throw gas on said flame.

I brought my cigarette to my lips and inhaled deeply.

The swing next to my bounced with new weight and then my cigarette was abruptly pulled from my lips.

I gasped and shot Damon an incensed look as he tossed it out into the yard. "What was that for?"

"I don't care for the taste of smoke," he shrugged.

I could feel my temper flaring up. I reached into my pocket and grabbed the pack. "Well, it's a good thing you're not the one smoking them, huh?" I started to pull out a second when he snatched the pack and clenched his fist. I could hear the paper of the pack and the cigarettes inside being crushed. "Damon!" I shouted, my hand darting out to take it back. He was able to hold me back with his other arm as he finished strangling it and then threw it out to join the old cigarette.

I stared, mouth open, completely shocked and infuriated, at the ruined pack of cigarettes. As a reflex to my anger, I turned and punched him hard in the shoulder.

"You're such an ass, Damon!" I berated him. "No one was forcing _you_ to smoke!"

"No," he agreed, "They weren't."

I could feel my eyes wanting to bug out of my head. This was ridiculous. "Then why the hell did you ruin my last pack? My decisions are _not _based on whether or not _you_ care for the taste of smoke."

"Well, when my tongue is down your throat, I'd rather you didn't taste like an ashtray," he spoke matter-of-factly.

Any other words I may have had became choked in my throat. When his… tongue… what? I could feel my mind becoming scattered and my joints getting weak.

I hated the effect he had one me.

He chuckled and I shook my head slightly, trying to gather my composure. I cleared my throat quietly and looked out at the yard. "Um… I don't… uh… I'm not sure what made you think…" I scrambled for the right words to respond with, but my mind just didn't seem able to form an entire sentence. Score two for embarrassment. Elena, zero.

He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear and I froze, my eyes locked on the grass, my arms clinging to my knees against my chest. "You get flustered just as easy as you get angry, kitten. Your feistiness is sexy and your stammering is charming. Both qualities amuse and intrigue me."

I blew out a breath and slowly moved away from his hand. "Damon, what are you doing out here?" I finally asked.

"I could ask the same of you, Ms. I-like-to-sulk-on-a-swing-at-two-in-the-morning."

I rolled my eyes. It was easier to have a coherent conversation with him when he was snarky and pissing me off. "I'm not sulking. I'm—well, I _was_ smoking."

"And why are you smoking at two in the morning?" he asked with a cocked brow.

"Because..." I paused, not sure how to answer.

"Because you're _sulking_," he finished for me.

"Whatever," I shook my head, turning away from him.

"Look, sulk if you want to," he shrugged. "I don't care. It's none of my business."

"Damon," I sighed in exasperation. "Again, _why_ are you out here? Other than to annoy the shit out of me."

"If you hadn't noticed, my window faces this yard. I saw you last night as well. Tonight I came with a proposition."

I turned to stare at him, my thoughts warning me to be cautious. "Proposing what, exactly?"

"Sex."

I could feel my jaw aching to drop, wanting to portray the shock rocketing through me. However, I held strong and maintained my composure. Now was not the time to become "flustered" as Damon had pointed out. I turned my gaze to the ground and counted to five to control my breathing and level my running thoughts.

_One…_

…_Did he really just say that?_

_Two…_

…_Surely he didn't mean… but what else could _that_ mean?_

_Three…_

…_Well, regardless, Elena, you can't be with him. In any way._

_Four…_

…_No. Absolutely not._

_Five._

I turned back to him. "Elaborate." _Fuck! _That was not the word I meant to say! It was supposed to have been 'No' or 'Fuck no'! Not _elaborate_! That was absolutely my body speaking and betraying me.

His lips turned into that alluring crooked smile and his eyes lit up with amusement. "Okay," he started slowly. "You're tense all the time. I can see it in the way you carry yourself. You're stressed, you're sad, and your mind is always reminding you of the things that make you stressed and sad. Nothing cures those symptoms quite as well as sex does. It's fun. It feels good. It'll take you out of your head for fifteen, twenty minutes. It has the power to _free_ you, Elena, if just for a little while."

I bit down on my lower lip. Those points _were_ valid. And it did sound kind of nice.

_What? No! _my inner voice screamed at me, and it was right. There's no way I could consider that. There were _so_ many things wrong with using someone for sex.

"Elena," Damon chided, grabbing my chin with his fingers and turning me to look at him. "Get _out_ of your head. I can already see you talking yourself out of it."

I jerked my head back from his touch. "What even makes you think I would agree to that, Damon? A little cocky, aren't you?"

Immediately I could see I used the wrong choice of words as his eyes darkened and his smirk grew. "_Very_."

I couldn't stand his arrogance – or the way my female parts responded to it – anymore, so I pushed out of the swing and started back to the house. I didn't make it two steps before his hand grabbed my arm and he spun me around, my back hitting the post of the swing. He stepped forward, his eyes locked with mine.

"We both know I heard you in the bathroom earlier. We both know whos name you were moaning. Don't think for one second you can pretend that you don't want me, Elena, and then I won't pretend that I don't want you."

I was speechless as I stared up into his heartbreakingly blue eyes, his words coming in perfectly clear but not really making any sense. He…_wanted_ me?

His proximity sent his masculine, spicy scent wafting beneath my nose and I shuddered. A jolt of arousal hit me and I sucked in a sharp breath of air, fighting the sensation to rip his clothes off and agree immediately. "We can't," I replied on the exhale, blowing his delicious scent away. "We barely know each other."

"And this is the perfect way to get to know one another," he countered.

"Damon," I groaned. "I've been here all of two days. Don't you think I already have enough problems?"

He tilted his head down, looking at me from beneath his lashes. "You're missing the point. My proposition is not to add to your problems. It's to help alleviate the burden you carry because of said problems."

I closed my eyes and shook my head, my mind winning out over the urges of my body. "No. I'm sorry, I can't."

I could feel the presence of his body weaken without even opening my eyes, knowing he was stepping away.

"Okay," he relented and I looked back at him. "But know this offer has no expiration date. I can wait."

I sighed again, wishing he'd realize I just couldn't.

I stayed against the swing as he turned and started back to the house, his hands sliding into his back pockets casually.

I despised the way I couldn't help but ogle him as he went.

…

I sat on the edge of my bed, bouncing up and down with my palms flat on the comforter.

Fucking Damon.

If I had thought my nerves were wound tightly earlier, they were now wrapped around my throat and strangling me.

All I could seem to think about was his lips, his eyes, his chest, his offer. The frustration built inside from trying to push the thoughts away was palpable.

Normally, I'd just go have a smoke and let the anxiety float away on the grey poofs. But I didn't have any cigarettes.

Thanks to Damon.

_Everything _was thanks to Damon. My lack of cigarettes, my nerves, my perverted thoughts.

He was torturing me without even being in the same room.

I flopped over onto my side and shoved my face in the pillow, letting out an aggravated scream.

It was going to be a long night.

…

The next morning, I didn't even bother with getting out of bed. I had finally changed into my pajamas – an oversized t-shirt with holes in it and incredibly comfortable blue/white flannel shorts – and snuggled into the covers. A few times I was able to doze off, but I never reached the point of much needed REM sleep.

Jeremy came knocking at my door around 1 PM.

"Come in," I called out, then followed with a yawn.

Jeremy entered, clearly already dressed for the day. His brow furrowed when he saw me. "You're still in bed?"

"And your point?"

He shrugged. "I don't have one, I guess. You're just normally up and singing with the birds at this time of day."

I closed my to prevent them from rolling and hugged the sheets closer to my body.

Nothing was 'normal' anymore.

"Anyway," he went on, "the movers are here. Ric, Stefan, and I are gonna' start loading the stuff into Ric's garage. Then, when you're ready, we'll go through it and decide what should go where. Sound good?"

"Yeah, Jer. Sounds fine," I agreed, effectively dismissing him. Several beats passed before I realized he wasn't leaving. Opening my eyes, I lifted a brow at him. "What, Jeremy?"

"Have you been sleeping well?"

"Why?"

"You've got some serious dark circles going on."

Gripping the pillow beneath me, I lifted and slung it at him. He grinned, easily stepping to the side to miss it.

"Hey, it was just a question," he laughed.

I turned to my stomach and ducked my head under my remaining pillow.

"I'll let you know when we're done," he told me as he went to leave.

"'Kay," I yelled back, my voice muffled by the fabric of the bed.

Downstairs, I could hear muted voices and the beeping of a truck backing up. A rattling reverberated the walls as the garage door slid up, allowing them to move in the things from my parents' house. Shortly after, my quiet room was filled with random clangs and clamberings, ruining any chance I had – like I really had one – of falling asleep. With a huff, I pushed aside the pillow and climbed out of bed, linking my fingers and stretching my arms above my head.

I strolled leisurely to the sitting area of the room and noticed a white trunk next to the loveseat. I walked over to it and flipped open the lid.

Inside, I found a few cookbooks, a high school yearbook, a photo album, and a rectangular box with a mini decorative pink teacup set. I thought back to how Stefan had said Isobel had decorated this room. Maybe she forgot her trunk when she moved out.

I dislodged the photo album from the surrounding items and carried it over to the couch, stretching out lengthwise and propping my back on the armrest. I sat the album in my lap and flipped it open.

The first picture was of Isobel and Ric on their wedding day. I couldn't help but smile softly as I saw the ridiculous grin spread across Ric's face. Isobel was staring up at him, adoration in her eyes. It made me wonder what caused them to fall apart.

I flipped the page and found Ric and Isobel standing in front of an Eiffel Tower. The casino in the background gave away that it wasn't the real thing, but the replica in Las Vegas. The next picture was of Isobel smiling into the camera, a baseball cap on her head and a foam finger on her hand.

The next few pages showed Ric and Isobel at an ice skating rink, Ric's 30th birthday party, and an Aerosmith concert. I laughed at Ric's expression – his eyes toward the stage, his mouth wide and open, obviously screaming. They looked so happy.

Midway through the album, I turned the page to find an ultrasound photo taped to the paper. The black and white photo was grainy, but it was obvious a little something was growing in someone's tummy. I bent down to read the small writing in the upper lefthand corner and my smile faded

_Isobel Saltzman – June 2008 – 6 Weeks_

Isobel had been pregnant? My parents had never told me. I knew they had problems having a baby, but I never knew she actually conceived. The next photo in the album was the same as before it, but showed 16 weeks, then the next 22. Both images showed more of a baby than the first. Tiny hands were pressed against its stomach and a small nose turned up. Just from the picture I could already see Ric's features.

My eyes travelled across the picture indicating 22 weeks and saw something written in a shaky, yet elegant script.

_Rest In Peace, baby Louisa Saltzman. _

Sorrow flooded through me as I thought of the pain Ric and Isobel must've experienced at the loss. No wonder their visits became nonexistent.

I let out a sigh and turned the page.

My heart clenched at the next picture I found, my hand lifting up to cover my mouth.

Ric stood on a porch deck in front of a grill, a spatula in his hand. Standing beside him with his hand propped on Ric's shoulder was my dad.

Dad smiled at the camera, his loving smile crinkling the corner of his eyes. His hair was blowing back softly in the wind, the sun shining brightly on his skin.

My face burned with approaching tears. I lowered my hand and gently ran my fingertips across my dad's face. I missed him so much.

The door leading to my room downstairs opened and I startled, slamming the album close and turning to sit upright on the couch. My hands made quick work of wiping at my eyes to clear the tears when someone knocked on my door.

"Yeah?" I called out, fanning at my face to try to help the redness in my eyes and cheeks.

The door creaked open slowly and Jeremy stuck his head in. "Elena?"

"Hey, Jer," I said as I stood and walked the photo album back to the trunk.

"We've got a problem."

I dropped the album inside, closed the lid, and turned back to him. His eyes were wary, avoiding mine entirely, and his posture indicated he was uncomfortable. I quickly became alarmed. "What kind of problem?"

"The movers… they, uh…" he ran his hand along the back of his neck and paused. "You know that box you had made of things of Dad's? Had like some of his clothes and stuff in it?"

My heart was stammering in my chest awkwardly as I stared him down and I could feel my blood pressure rising. "What happened to it, Jeremy?"

He swallowed hard and unconsciously took a step back into the doorway. "They don't know what happened to it."

The air seemed to whoosh out of the room with his words. My body froze and my gaze was zoned in on his face. "What. Does. That. Mean, Jeremy?" I bit out through clenched teeth.

He shrugged. "They don't know where it is. There was a pocket watch you put in there that I wanted, so, I went to look for it, but it wasn't there."

My hands began to tremble and I breathed deeply, willing myself to stay calm despite the rage and bereavement building inside me. I balled my fists by my side and pressed my lips tightly together.

Not even caring that I was still in pajamas, I pushed past Jeremy without another word.

I found the moving men standing near the cab of their truck, having a conversation with Ric. Crossing my arms, I walked up to them.

"Where is the box with my dad's stuff?"

The two men exchanged glances, then looked at Ric.

"Elena, honey," Ric started, caution in his tone.

"No," I interrupted him, my eyes not leaving the two men. "Where is the box?"

"Miss," one of the men spoke up. "This was all that was at the house."

I narrowed my eyes. "You're lying."

The man's brow furrowed, obviously taken aback by my accusation. "No ma'am. This was it."

"Liar!" I screamed, my frustration and anger reaching a breaking point. "Where is it! It was right next to my things!"

"We don't have it," the man said a little more firmly.

I looked over to the garage and saw the unloaded things. I rushed over and started tearing into boxes. It had to be here somewhere. I distinctly remember it sitting by my box of stuff when I took out dad's shirt for the flight.

Brown strips of cardboard tore between my hands and wadded up newspapers flew everywhere as I dug into each box frantically. Hot tears pooled along my waterline as I found each box containing either something belonging to Jeremy or me.

Suddenly, hands grabbed my shoulders and pulled me away from the boxes.

"Elena, come on!" Jeremy yelled next to my ear. "It's just not here!"

I yanked away from his grip, scrambling to my feet.

"Why isn't here?" I sobbed, my hands clutching my disheveled hair.

"We'll find it," he promised. "We will. Just calm down."

I shook my head, too upset to simply 'calm down'. They shouldn't have lost it. That box meant the world to me.

"Elena, let's go inside, I'll make you some tea," Ric offered as he stepped toward me.

"No," I shook my head again. I didn't need tea. I didn't need to sit and talk with Jeremy and Ric about all my emotional problems.

I needed to get away.

I needed a distraction.

I needed…

Damon.

Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I looked at Jeremy and Ric. "I'm alright. I'm just gonna' go lie down for a bit."

Ric nodded softly, obviously too afraid to push me in any one direction.

Turning back to the house, I walked slowly to the front doors. Once inside, I sprinted up the staircase and down the hallway to Damon's room. I didn't even bother knocking as I threw open his door, closed it, and turned the lock. Spinning around, I realized Damon was nowhere to be found.

Had he left?

Just as I was about to call out his name, I heard a noise from behind the black door up the stairs.

Hesitantly, I started up the spiral staircase and stopped just outside the door. Pressing my ear against the black paint, I could hear the muffled sound of music and the quiet swishing of water being moved.

With a deep breath, I pulled open the door and stepped inside.

"Hey!" Damon shouted as a stream of light poured across him. Quickly, I slammed the door close behind me, realizing I may have destroyed whatever he was just working on.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, my head tilted low. It was difficult to see him in the small room. Only a dull red bulb glowed above our heads, faintly lighting Damon as he worked.

Damon pulled a piece of paper out of a tray of water with a set of tongs, hanging it up with a clip on a wire for it to dry. I watched as water ran off the bottom edge of the paper. On the sheet, the edges began to turn black, an image of something coming through. Diagonally across the center, however, the sheet remained white and the image didn't complete. I had ruined it after all. I heard Damon sigh.

"I'm sorry," I repeated.

He turned to me, his arms crossing over his chest. "What are you doing here, Elena?"

I lifted my head and met his gaze, squaring my shoulders. "I accept," I answered.

"Accept?"

"Your offer."

Damon's brows lifted in surprise. "Oh?"

I nodded quickly. "Yeah. So, let's do it," I rushed, afraid that if we waited I would lose my nerve.

I could see skepticism in his eyes. "You're sure?"

"Yes."

Damon dropped his arms and walked toward me. My heart stammered in response. As he approached, he reached up and pushed back some of my hair. His eyes softened. "What happened?"

I looked down. "What do you mean?"

"Elena, something brought you up here. Tell me what it is."

Looking up at him, I shook my head slightly. "You told me this would get me out of my head."

He held my gaze for several beats, weighing my words. Finally, he nodded. "Okay." I watched as his eyes travelled down, noticing the clothes I was wearing. Fingering a hole in my shirt against my tummy, he laughed. "So, I guess my wish of you sleeping in those lacy sex panties is not coming true, huh?"

My cheeks burned with his words, the blush sprouting across my chest and up my neck. How was I ever going to actually be able to go through with this?

I watched his hand as it left the hole and lightly grazed along my side, against the curve of my breast, over my collarbone, and stilled against my neck. His fingers rubbed my skin softly, sending a shudder down my spine. I looked back up to find him staring at me intently.

"What?" I whispered as if anything louder would have been deafening in my ears.

The corner of his lip turned into a smile. "That blush is probably the most adorable fucking thing I've ever seen."

My heart spiked and the blush deepened. "Damon, we frown upon vulgarity around here," I replied softly, reciting the words he spoke the night of my arrival. I was honestly not sure how else to respond.

He laughed and I was surprised to find just how much I liked the sound. "You're right," he nodded. "We do." He lowered his head next to my ear and my muscles reflectively tensed at his nearness. "But when the occasion calls for a _fuck_, you can be sure I'll answer."

My lips parted and I inhaled sharply, his words fluttering in my stomach. Before I could respond, he turned his head and his lips were on mine, firmly pressing me back against the door.

They were just as soft as I'd anticipated, but absolutely unwavering. I responded to the kiss with dumbfounded-ness, my mind washing blank as I melted beneath him. I couldn't even remember how to kiss back. He brought his free hand to the other side of my neck and tilted my head, changing the angle for a deeper kiss as his tongue licked along my lower lip.

I couldn't stop the moan that whimpered past my teeth even if I'd wanted to.

I felt him smile against me as he kissed me again, then let his tongue slip into my mouth, meeting absolutely no resistance from me.

The taste of him was exquisite. There was something sweet and tart on his breath and it caused my eyes to roll back slightly, my lashes fluttering close.

He stepped forward, trapping my body between him and the door, the position reminding me of my fantasy. I could feel the hardened member of him pressing against my stomach and I couldn't help but be shocked by the length. Matt had hardly been anything to brag about.

As his lips molded to mine, my mind finally began working again and I pressed back, lifting up on my toes. My hands lifted and grabbed onto his forearms, securing him to me. Our kiss was slow and gentle, but the passion in it shot straight to my pussy, causing my shorts to get wet. Reflexively, I pushed my hips forward, craving friction between my legs.

Damon broke the kiss, his heavy breathing matching my own. "Searching for something?" he teased as his lips moved to my neck and began sucking softly.

I arched my neck to allow him better access and moaned. "Yes."

One of his hands dropped away from my neck and landed on my hip. With excruciatingly slow movements, I felt his fingers trail across my thigh and linger just next to the dip of my legs. His tongue ran across the skin of my neck before he continued nibbling, sending goosebumps all over my body. His other hand moved down my shoulder and onto my chest, pulling down until his palm was covering my breast on the outside of my shirt. When he began massaging, the nipple hardened and I felt him groan into my neck.

I smiled, pleased that I may have just as much of an effect on him as he had on me.

I moved my hands up into his hair and tangled my fingers in the silky locks, holding him tight against my neck.

He quickly let go of my breast and plunged it beneath my shirt, bringing me the skin-to-skin contact I so desperately wanted. His thumb and forefinger found my nipple and he tweaked it gently, rolling it between his fingers. Again my hips bucked forward, begging his hand to slip down.

He chuckled. "Someone's anxious."

"Just please," I nearly begged, feeling as though I was just short of rubbing my thighs together on my own for relief.

He lifted up and planted a quick kiss on my lips, then surprised me by dropping to his knees.

My eyes grew wide. "What are you doing?"

He looked up at me, his blue eyes glaciers beneath the dark lashes, the red bulb glowing hotly across his skin. "Shhh," was his only answer as he hooked his fingers into my shorts and slowly began lowering them and my panties simultaneously.

I pressed my back against the door, my heart hammering in my chest and making me nervous. "Damon, I don't," I started but he interrupted.

"Elena. Hush. Close your eyes." His voice was husky and dripping with lust.

With several deep breaths, I nodded and did as he said. The cold air of the room touched my private parts as he removed my clothes and I bit down on my lip, understanding I was now bare before him. My mind was screaming at me to stop this, telling me that I was exposing myself too much, both physically and emotionally. But my body wanted it more than my mind didn't. I remained quiet and let Damon do what he wanted.

His lips pressed against my upper thigh and I couldn't help but look down at him. He lifted on his knees and moved the kiss across my tummy and down the other thigh. Sparks lit me on fire with each soft touch. When his lips finally began to travel to the point aching down below, I was trembling with anxiety and arousal.

Involuntarily, I cried out as his lips tugged at my labia, then a second time, and a third. His mouth moved lower and his tongue dipped between the folds. He ran the flat of his tongue upward and I arched my back, my hands flying to his hair to steady myself.

The magic he was able to perform with that tongue and those lips had to have been illegal. Sucking me into his mouth, I moaned and panted, not even caring how much I sounded like a wanton whore. "Fuck, Damon."

I ached to rotate my hips, but as soon as I tried, his hands grabbed my hips and he held me firmly against mouth, running his tongue around my clit before teasing it with his lips. The sensations he filled me with were completely new to me and I let my head fall back. "Yes," I cried, gasping as I was taken into his mouth again. He sucked and licked furiously, groaning against my already sensitive flesh. His movements were working me into a frenzy quickly and my hands tightened their grip in his hair.

With just a few more flicks of his tongue and sucking of my clit, I was falling to pieces, moaning his name as my orgasm slammed into me. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Ughhh, Damon! Fuuuck!" The orgasm was unlike any I'd experienced, washing over me like a fucking rainbow. My vision went black, then white, then a spectrum of other colors. Starbursts exploded in my mind and my body shook as the waves ran into me. My throbbing clit twitched wildly as my inner walls flexed and contracted with the orgasm, prolonging my experience.

When it was fading, I slumped forward, my arms wrapped around Damon's head and holding him to my stomach. My breathing was labored and uneven and sweat was forming along my hairline. "Fuck," I muttered between breaths. "That was… Wow."

Damon pulled his head away from my stomach and looked up at me, his eyes mischievous. "Don't think we're done yet, love."

My brow furrowed. "But I already… I mean…" I didn't know how to explain to him that I'd already had an orgasm and had never been able to achieve a second.

He stood to his feet and I watched as he unzipped his jeans and shoved them down, his very prominent erection bouncing free. My eyes grew as I was finally able to see the size of him.

"Damon," I started warily. "That's not going to… I mean… You're not gonna' fit."

His eyes narrowed and his smirk showed on his face. "It'll fit, baby doll," he assured me with a promising tone. Without warning, he grabbed my leg and hitched it up on his hip, his hand helping to support my leg. His eyes stayed locked with mine as he pushed forward until the tip of him was positioned right where it needed to be. I licked my lips that had grown dry from apprehension and waited for his next move. With steady eye contact, he slammed forward. We both inhaled harshly.

Damon's eyes closed and both of his hands moved to the door on either side of my head. "God," he groaned. "You're so fucking tight. Don't tell me you're a virgin?"

I shook my head quickly. "I'm not. I'm not. I'm just… I'm not used to…" I swallowed hard and tried to control my breathing. My body was so unused to something his size that I might as well have been a virgin. I could feel my walls adjusting to take him in completely. I was certain that had he not worked me up earlier and gotten me soaking wet, he would've never slid in so easily.

He opened his lids and I was shocked by how dark his eyes had grown, the blackness nearly filling the entire orb. Nothing but pure lust remained in his gaze and I quivered. He licked his lips and leaned close, his voice low. "Show me how an angel fucks a demon."

I had never realized how much I enjoyed dirty talk until Damon taught me how it was done right. I grabbed his hips and pushed him back, giving him the okay to start.

His erection slid slowly out of me, then back in as Damon began setting his pace. At first he was gentle, watching me intently for any signs of discomfort. Before long, however, his movements were quicker and I was being slammed back against the door, crying out his name.

"Yes," I moaned. "Ungh, god."

"Mmm, Elena," he answered with his own sounds of pleasure. "You're so… fucking …good, baby," he told me, punctuating each word with a quick thrust inside me. Abruptly, he grabbed my ass and lifted me up. My legs automatically wrapped around his hips and my arms held onto his neck. He pounded into me relentlessly against the door, sliding my body up and down his. "Fuck!" he nearly shouted.

The new position allowed for his body to rub against my clit with each up and down movement. Whereas usually my lady parts are too sensitive after an orgasm to do more, I found that they were more than willing to participate this time. I could already feel a buildup forming in my abdomen and I bit my lip. "Unnnghhh."

"You like that?" Damon grunted against my ear, his breath hot and heavy. His muscles flexed as he held me up and the sheer power he possessed turned me on even more

"Yes. More," I pleaded.

He released one hand to begin massaging my breast, providing a new stimulation to my nipples. With the combination of his dick slamming into me and his fingers working my nipple, I was a shouting mess atop him. "Fuck!... Yes!... Yes!... Just like that!... Just like that, Damon!"

He groaned with each penetration and kissed my neck. He pulled me down on him and stilled, letting me gyrate my hips against his body, then repeated the motions. He'd lift me up, drop me, and let me create friction between us.

"That's right," he encouraged. "Fuck me."

His words shot right through me just as I slammed back down on him. "Ungh! Fuck!" I rotated my hips and my clit throbbed from an approaching orgasm. I held onto him as he pulled me up to go through the motions again.

Up. Down. Rotate. Lift. Slam. Gyrate. In. Out. Friction. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Pushing me tighter against the door, he sped up the movements, winding my body up frantically.

"Come on, baby," he gritted out between thrusts. "Fucking come for me. Squeeze my cock with that delicious pussy."

My mouth fell open as the nasty things coming out of his mouth rocked me over the edge. My legs tightened around his hips and I moaned loudly. "Unnghhh! Yeah, yeah, yeeaaah!" I crushed my hips to his, allowing his still pumping movements to keep my orgasm bursting. "Ohhhh, fuuck."

My muscles tensed and released as the orgasm began to fade, my legs growing weak and unlocking from Damon. His hands grabbed them and kept them around his hips as he continued thrusting.

"So close," he mumbled, his brow furrowed in pleasure. With several more frenetic thrusts, I could feel warm liquid pouring into me as his erection pumped. "Fuck!" he cursed, his breathing speeding up as he stilled within me.

For several seconds we both stood still against the door, each coming down from our own versions of bliss. Finally, Damon lowered me to my feet and slipped out.

I hated the way I missed him inside me instantaneously.

Reaching down, I grabbed my clothes and tugged them back on as he did the same with his pants. Standing straight, I ran a hand through my wild hair and looked up at him, my breathing finally slowing.

"So," I started quietly, not quite sure if I should thank him or what.

He smiled, placed a hand on the door behind me, and lazily bent down. I sighed as his lips connected with mine, kissing me gently. He pulled back and let out a breath of his own. "You, Ms. Gilbert, I must say, are the best I've ever had."

After everything we'd just done, I still couldn't stop the blush from coloring my cheeks.

"I look forward to the next time," he smiled, kissing me once more before softly pulling me from the door and stepping out.

My head tilted to the side and my body relaxed as I watched him begin his journey down the steps and away from the dark room.

Damon had been right. This encounter had absolutely gotten me out of my head. I couldn't even fully remember what I'd been upset about.

But I could already feel the signs of a bleeding heart beginning. Damon and I were treading dangerous territory with our new agreement.

I licked my lips, still tasting him there. The taste sent me back to the last thirty minutes and effectively washed away my worrying doubts.

I guess we're living dangerously.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Firstly, if you found grammatical mistakes in this, please ignore them. It's now 4:14 AM and I've been writing for hours to get this new chapter out, knowing that I have school all this week and may not get time to write. Bear with me. :)

I would love to hear responses to this chapter so review, review, review. I promise I read each and every one of them, but don't really reply because the ff website has made replying to reviews a VERY difficult task.

Before I go to bed, as always, follow me on Tumblr. aphobiac(DOT)tumblr(DOT)com and I'll see you all next chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

I remained still for several more minutes, waiting for my body to calm and my blanched skin to return to its pale tone. The words of both Damon and I, however, rolled around in my mind and my skin remained the deep pink color. A moment ago, I was aroused. Now I'm embarrassed. I peeked down over the staircase for Damon and was relieved to find he had apparently left the room. I took the steps of the spiral staircase hastily and when outside his door, I quickly darted across the length of the hallway to the door leading up to my room.

Closing my bedroom door upstairs, I snapped the lock close and turned my back to rest against it.

What had I just done?

I had turned into a fucking porn star, that's what I'd just done. I had _never_ spoken like that during an intimate moment with Matt. Ever.

"_Just like that, Damon!"_ Ugh! Why would I say that?

Well… I know _why_ I'd say that, but why would I want to?

No respect. That's why. I had absolutely no respect for myself anymore. That's why I went to him in the first place.

I closed my eyes and let my head drop.

I had to admit it, though – Damon was right. That moment with him in his darkroom had effectively removed me from my world for just a few moments. The incident with my dad's box had been completely forgotten.

But now, here alone in my room, the incident was back along with my new problem of how to deal with what I'd just done with Damon. That was where Damon had been wrong. This deal of his _was_ adding to my problems.

I shook my head and began walking toward the couch in my room, a new decision forming firmly in my mind.

No more. That was the one and only time I would sleep with Damon… Fuck, I didn't even know his last name.

I dropped down on the couch and sighed. But it had been so nice. Being that close to someone. Having him hold me. Having him control me. I had liked it.

But that didn't matter. There was no way that kind of arrangement would work. Not with him or anyone else. No matter what problems were thrown my way, I would not go crawling back to him.

I would not go back to him.

I would not go back to him.

I repeated the mantra in my mind, willing the words to stay put. But even as I thought it, there was a wavering edge to the words.

Shit.

…

I stayed in my room for most of the remaining day, only leaving once to take a quick shower. Jeremy had brought my boxes to my room while I'd been out and I worked slowly on giving everything a new home in the room, finding that it effectively took my mind off of earlier. Close to 7 o'clock, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" I shouted as I sat in the middle of my bedroom floor, surrounded by stacks of vintage 45's – it had been a hobby for my dad and I.

Jeremy stepped into the room. "Hey."

I looked up from the record in my hand. "Oh, hey, Jer."

"How are you?"

I shrugged.

"The movers have called their company and are sending guys back to the old house to look for that box."

"Good," I replied simply.

"Yeah, well, dinner's ready. Everyone's already in the dining room."

"Dinner?" For some reason the idea of having dinner with the household seemed foreign to me. They didn't seem like the type of people to gather at night for some family time around the kitchen table. "Who's 'everyone'?"

"Me, Ric, Stefan, Damon. Everyone. The only people here."

"Are getting together… for dinner?" Even when spoken the words sounded strange to me.

Jeremy sighed with clear exasperation. "Yes, Elena. For dinner. Now, come on." And with that, he turned and started down the stairs.

…

Walking into the dining room, I picked at the edges of my long sleeves and stared down at the ground. When I glanced up, I was met with four sets of eyes gazing intently back at me. An involuntary blush heated my cheeks.

"Nice of you to join us," Ric smiled and his tone was not at all sarcastic. He was genuinely glad to see me.

I nodded once and sat in the last available chair next to Jeremy. Across from me, I noted uncomfortably, was Damon, his crystal eyes burning into my skin. Next to him sat Stefan and at the end of the rectangular table was Ric.

Everyone sat in silence for a moment before Ric cleared his throat and we all looked toward him.

"Well, um… I guess this is our first real dinner together. Not really sure if I should give a toast or a speech or what, but, Jeremy, Elena, I'm sincerely glad to have you guys in my home."

"Thanks, Ric," Jeremy smiled.

"So," Ric continued, "I'm not sure if you guys pray before you eat or…?"

Jeremy shook his head. "No, we don't typically. Do you?"

"Not at all," Ric laughed. "I guess that means just dig in."

On the table, there were multiple serving bowls set out with foods like mashed potatoes and salad. On a larger platter was a group of steaks that had apparently been cooked on a grill. I wondered if Ric had cooked them or had some help from one of the other guys. I knew Jeremy didn't know how to cook hardly anything so it definitely wasn't him. Either way, with how I was feeling, I wasn't sure my stomach could handle any food.

"Not eating?" Damon's voice spoke softly over the table and I looked up from my empty plate.

"Not hungry," I muttered back and averted my eyes. Everything in my body was tense from the uneasiness I now felt around Damon. We definitely shouldn't have hooked up.

"Oh, come on, Elena," Ric chided. "You've got to eat. I'd feel like an irresponsible guardian if you didn't."

"I came down and ate earlier," I lied.

"No you didn't," Damon chimed in and my eyes shot to his. How dare he?

I narrowed my eyes slightly. "Yes. I did."

"No," he repeated. "You didn't."

My jaw ached to drop in complete astonishment at his audacity, but I held my composure.

"She did," Stefan suddenly spoke up and we all turned to him. "I came through and saw her. Peanut butter sandwich, right?" he asked looking at me.

My eyes softened, grateful for his interruption. "Right," I nodded and smiled slightly.

"Well, guess that's settled," Ric smiled and began to eat, turning to engage Jeremy in a new line of conversation about school.

Stefan and I held eye contact for a few more moments as I mentally thanked him, then he reached out for food. When I looked back at Damon, his eyes were a bit icier than before and his mouth was pressed into a hard line. I didn't understand what his problem was.

…

Later that night, I found myself on the outside swing again, sans cigarettes. My jeans and long-sleeve shirt were protecting me nicely against the chill of the air, but I still wrapped my arms around my knees more out of habit than necessity. The swing rocked slowly beneath me and I stared blankly out into the night.

"Elena?"

I turned my head and saw Stefan striding toward me.

"Hey," I responded.

"You must really like this swing," he laughed as he walked around to the front and sat.

"It's a good place to think."

"About?"

I shrugged. "Oh you know. Life and stuff."

"Life and stuff," he repeated. "Heavy stuff."

"Heavy stuff, indeed," I agreed, then turned to him. "Hey, I'm glad you're here. I wanted to thank you for earlier."

He shook his head and looked down, almost seeming shy. "Don't worry about it."

"You just didn't have to do that, is all. But I'm glad you did."

"Damon just likes giving people a hard time. He likes picking on the weak."

"I'm not weak," I countered with a smile.

He looked up at me, his green eyes studying me for a moment before responding. "No. You're definitely not. So, why was it you didn't want to eat?"

I half-shrugged again. "I don't know. I just have a hard time eating when I'm stressed."

"That makes sense. It's understandable you're stressed."

"Is it?" I asked him. "No one else seems to be."

"Everyone handles loss differently," he answered.

"How have you handled yours?"

He sat up straight, his brow furrowed slightly in thought. "You know… I don't think I ever really handled it at all," he finally answered. "I mean, like I said before, I didn't know my parents. So, there wasn't much for me to lose there."

"You've never missed them?"

"When you never had it, you can't miss it," he replied with a small smile. "But sometimes I wonder. You know, what it would be like. I think Ric does a great job in kind of showing what it'd be like to have a dad."

I nodded and we fell silent for several moments, Stefan pushing the swing back and forth. Suddenly, a thought popped into my mind and I looked at him. "What's your last name?"

"Salvatore."

Hm. _Salvatore_. That's an attractive last name. Damon Salvatore.

My subconscious popped up and slapped me hard across the face. No! It should not be so easy for his name to show up in my mind at any time. Stefan Salvatore. He was the one I was speaking to. Not Damon.

"Why?" he asked.

"Just curious. Honestly, I think it's kind of weird to be living with," slash sleeping with, "guys I don't even know."

"Well, get to know me then," he smiled. "Shoot."

I bit on my lip. He was inviting me to ask him questions. Part of me only wanted to ask him about Damon, but I had a feeling that wouldn't go over so well. I looked out into the night as I tried to think of something.

"Um… what's you favorite color?" I asked, not being able to come up with anything else.

He thought for a moment. "I don't know that I really have a favorite color. I guess if I did, it would be black."

I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I think I'd say the same," or maybe my new favorite color would be blue… ice blue… like that of a crystal.

Shit.

No. Do not think of his eyes.

"What do you do for fun?" I questioned, trying to navigate away from my thoughts.

"Well, I kind of like sports. I played football in high school."

"Oh, I cheered," I chimed in, memories of nights on the field washing over me. My parents in the bleachers, Matt on the field, the bright lights illuminating my friends and I as we shouted encouraging words to our boyfriends.

"Do you miss it?" he asked, almost as if he could sense the images flashing behind my eyes.

"Part of me does, maybe. It was fun."

"You have a year left. I'm sure the school would love to have you on their team."

I shook my head. "I don't think I could. A lot's changed. I just… I don't know. That's not really me anymore. Honestly, I hadn't even thought about school since we got here."

"Ric mentioned Jeremy starting next Monday. I assumed you would as well."

I sighed and leaned back into the swing. "I don't know," I answered simply. A new school was the last thing I wanted right now. I wasn't interested in making new friends or explaining to everyone who I was, where I came from. I'd moved once before when I was 10 and I remember what it was like to have all the kids stare at me and whisper behind my back. It would be a million times worse now. I'd be the new girl from the strange world of the west coast who's parents were dead.

"If you decide to, let me know. I've still got friends there that would be more than happy to hang out with you, show you around."

I smiled warmly at him. He really was a nice guy and I appreciated his offer. "I'll think about it. Thanks."

Involuntarily, a yawn suddenly built in my chest and I pressed my hand against my mouth to suppress it. "Sorry," I muttered mid-yawn.

Stefan laughed. "Honestly, I'm pretty tired, too. Come on, I'll walk you up."

…

"So, tomorrow I'm actually going to hang out with a few of the friends I mentioned earlier," Stefan said as we walked up the stairs to the second floor, him trailing just a step or so behind me. "You could come if you want to."

"What are you guys doing?"

He shrugged. "We'll probably go eat, maybe go to the movies or something. It really depends on what everyone feels like doing."

"What time?"

"Around 2."

I looked down at the steps as we walked, wondering to myself if I was really ready to meet any new people. "Can I think about it?"

"Absolutely." He reached out and gently touched my elbow to stop me on the top step. A sweet tingle ran up my arm and I looked down at him. "If you're not ready, don't be afraid to say so," he said, his eyes soft with concern. He always seemed to know what I was thinking, how I was feeling. What was it with these Salvatore brothers?

I nodded. "Sure."

"Well, look at this," a new voice intruded and we both turned to see Damon sauntering down the hall. "Seems like someone's made a new friend."

My eyes narrowed and darkened slightly. I was still angry with him for the incident at dinner earlier.

"Damon," Stefan greeted curtly, a slight edge in his tone.

"Stefan," Damon answered back, mimicking his brother's voice.

I looked back at Stefan. "So, I'll let you know in the morning, K?"

He nodded, his eyes remaining a few seconds longer on Damon. When he looked back at me, he smiled slightly and his eyes lost their sharpness. "Goodnight."

"'Night."

Stefan stepped past me and began toward his bedroom. I turned in the opposite direction for my room, making a point not to speak to Damon.

As I climbed the last step and began closing my top door, a hand reached out to stop it and I startled a bit, not realizing anyone had been behind me.

"Can I come in?" Damon asked as he pushed back on the door and stepped in regardless of my resistance.

I backed up from the door and crossed my arms over my chest. "Does my answer even matter?"

"Not really," he concluded and walked over to the couch, dropping down to stretch out on the cushions, his arm hung casually on the back of it.

"What do you want, Damon?" I asked, not even bothering to suppress the annoyance in my voice.

"What were you doing with Stefan?" he asked casually.

I rolled my eyes. "None of your damn business. Now get out."

"You're angry with me," he said matter-of-factly and put on a fake pout. I huffed in exasperation and nearly stomped as I crossed the room to my closet. "Because of earlier?" he continued. I remained silent as I began searching for nightclothes. "Well, I'm not going to apologize."

"You should," I spit out and turned to him.

He shook his head. "You need your stamina. You need to eat."

"What? Why?"

"No one likes a sex partner that tires too easily," he answered with an arched brow. "And I don't want you losing weight. Your body's perfect the way it is."

I closed my eyes tightly and pinched the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger. I had made my decision earlier. Now it was time to tell him.

"We're not sex partners, Damon. We won't be doing that again," I said quietly, dropping my hand and turning back to the closet, moving some clothes on the hangers idly, mostly to give me something to do.

His side of the room was quiet for several minutes and I was beginning to wonder if he was hurt, upset, angry, when suddenly I was pushed into the dark closet, face first in the clothes, and the door shut behind me.

I gasped, my eyes wide, and twisted around. A light above my head switched on and I found myself face to face with Damon in the small space.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I hissed.

He moved forward fractionally and I moved myself deeper into the clothes to avoid contact.

"Why?" he asked.

"Why what?"

"Why have you decided we're 'won't be doing that again'?" he repeated my words.

I shook my head and pushed against his chest slightly, attempting to move around him for the doorknob. "I'm leaving."

He blocked me and grabbed my wrist with his hand, holding it steadily to his chest. "Answer me, Elena."

I looked up into his eyes and they were glaring at me somewhat menacingly. I felt slightly intimidated.

"Because we just can't."

"That isn't an answer."

I closed my eyes and let out a deep exhale. "Because I feel as though it made things worse for me."

"How?"

"It just did," I snapped. "I felt horrible about myself. It made me feel uncomfortable around you after. And it _didn't_ take away the prior issue at hand, thank you very much."

He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "You're over. thinking. it," he bit out.

I yanked my hand away from him and folded my arms over my chest. "So what if I am. That's just how I feel, Damon. Now, please, respect that and get out."

His eyes travelled back to my face, his jaws tensing. "Fine. I'll get out," he nodded then swiftly leaned down and pressed his lips hard against mine. I was stunned, my eyes large. I couldn't even think to make him stop as his hand lifted and tenderly wrapped around my neck, tilting my head slightly for a better angle. His lips molded perfectly against mine for several seconds, sending my heart into a frenzy. When he pulled away and opened his eyes, the crystal orbs were swimming with desire and smugness and I was nearly panting. "But I won't respect it," he finished.

He reached behind him and pushed open the closet door, his eyes remaining on me as he stepped out.

"See you soon," he told me, and it sounded like a promise. "Goodnight, Elena."

I was left in a stupor, my mind and body racing with confusion, anger and pure, raw lust.

I quickly realized quitting him would be like quitting a drug.

I guess I needed to find some rehab.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hi, guys! I've missed you!

So, I finally graduated college. Got two degrees - Yay - But more importantly, free time to work on my fic's. :D

I'm getting married in 25 days so I may not have a ton of free time, but definitely more than before. I'll work on this story and 'Addictions', for those that are reading it, as much as I possibly can.

Thanks for hanging in there.

See you next chapter!

And follow me on Tumblr!


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